MessageJesus
reveals that God is a God of abundance who will lovingly provide
plenty for all, but the common perception of scarcity easily corrupts
us and leads to treachery and abuse.

Sermon

Looking
back through my files, it appears that I have never preached on the
story of David and Bathsheba before. I don’t think I’ve been
deliberately avoided it, but I haven’t tackled it. I think it would
be rather remiss of me if I skipped over it tonight though.

I
couldn’t believe it when I realised it was coming up tonight. This
weekend, the men of the church have been focussing a fair bit of
attention on what it means to be men. We headed into the bush, did a
day’s labour helping with the re-fencing of farms destroyed by the
February bushfires, and then around our campfire we celebrated a male
initiation rite with one of our young men, Daniel. Many sociologists
argue quite seriously that one of the reasons that there is such an
epidemic of dangerous, immature, screwed-up men in modern western
society is that we have largely lost any proper initiatory rituals
whereby older men take boys, as they reach adolescence, and begin
teaching them some of the basic lessons they need to learn if they
are to grow into well-adjusted, good and true men. In the absence of
a solid tradition of older men initiating young men, young men create
ignorant ways of initiating one another, all too often involving
anti-social pack behaviour with dangerous abuse of alcohol and cars,
and impulsive predatory sexual activity. Obviously it takes a lot
more than one night to form a good and true man, but the lessons have
to start somewhere and the relationships have to start somewhere, and
we think that Daniel has begun on the right track.

So,
having spent the weekend thinking about what makes a good man, here
we are hearing a story of one of the greatest male heroes of the
Judeo-Christian tradition plumbing the depths of the darkest side of
corrupt masculinity. David, of course, is often seen as some sort of
idealisation of masculinity. Michelangelo's statue of him is
history’s most famous depiction of the idealised male body. His
youthful conquering of the giant Goliath and his later successful
reign over Israel at the height of its political and military power
cemented his exulted place in hall of fame. The whole idea that the
Messiah would be “the Son of David” meant “the new David”.
The messiah is the new David. That’s how highly David was regarded.

But
tonight’s story, which is remarkable in part for having survived
the inevitable pressure to edit it out, shows David at his ugly
worst. He spots a beautiful woman, he exploits his power to have her
brought to his bed, he exploits his power again to try to cover up
the resulting pregnancy, and then finally resorts to pulling more
strings to have her husband killed. Almost all men wield power in at
least some areas of their lives. The question is whether they wield
it for good — generously, creatively, respectfully and wisely —
or for ill. Here we see David, seduced by his own power and his own
popularity, wielding his power in corrupt ways for his own selfish
gratification, simply because he can. This is precisely the sort of
deluded and dangerous corruption of masculinity we hope and pray that
Daniel will steer clear of.

One
of the thing that drives the sort of behaviour we see in David here
is a particular belief system which I think we see Jesus challenging
in the story we heard in tonight’s gospel reading. This problem
belief system tells us that we haven’t got enough, that we aren’t
getting enough, and that if we don’t grab everything we can while
we’ve got the chance, we might miss out, because there probably
isn’t much available and probably not enough to go around. Whether
it’s money, or food, or possessions, or sex, or privileges, or
affection; we are often told that things are tight and you had better
get in for your chop or you’ll be going without. So David,
convinced that he’s probably not getting enough, impulsively grabs
at whatever catches his eye, even human beings, and has his rivals
eliminated to protect his stash.

When
we believe that things are tight, that the things we need are scarce,
what happens? We become rivals in a competition for the scarce
resources. We cling to what we have and we grasp for more. We are
afraid to share, even with those who are clearly in desperate need,
because if we give anything away, we might be next. I heard that a
survey found that about half of all Australians had not personally
experienced any impact of the current so-called Global Financial
Crisis. But you don’t have to have been personally impacted for the
mindset of it to suck you in. Hold on to what you’ve got, grab a
bit more if you can, and protect it zealously, because the bottom
could fall out of your world at any moment. The whole capitalist
system of economics is built on this principle of scarcity. If we
started with an assumption that there was actually more than enough
to go around, then most of the tenets of capitalist economics would
be rendered nonsensical.

But
I put it too you that that is precisely what Jesus is saying. There
is more than enough. God is a God who gives abundantly. There is no
need to hoard. Look at the lilies of the field and the birds of the
air and see how generously God provides for them. There is plenty to
go around. This is a definite theme in the gospel according to John,
which we are diverting into for the next five weeks. Do you remember
what the first miracle story is in John’s gospel (and John calls
the miracle stories “signs”)? Abundant wine. The guests at a
wedding are well lubricated already, but the wine has run out, so
Jesus produces some more. A couple of bottles? No! Six kegs of it!
About five hundred litres! God is a God of abundance.

And
this story of the feeding of the five thousand is similar, and
perhaps even more explicitly about God’s abundance versus our
perceptions of scarcity. The perception of scarcity is well
articulated within the story. “It would take six months wages to
feed all these people,” says Philip. “There is a boy here who has
five bread rolls and two fish. But that’s not going to go far among
all this lot, is it?” says Andrew. Not enough to go around. Not
enough to go around.

But
Jesus has other ideas, and perhaps so did the little boy, the only
one in the crowd who was willing to respond to the perceived scarcity
with an act of generosity. And who knows. Perhaps that is what the
miracle was. Remember John calls it a sign, not a miracle. Perhaps
the generosity of the little boy and the blessing of his generosity
by Jesus unleashed a true miracle — the opening of the hearts of
the crowd to transcend their fear of scarcity and begin sharing what
they had. Truth be known, that would be every bit as miraculous as
turning five bread rolls into five thousand and twelve, if not more.

Usually
this fearful perception of scarcity leads only to stinginess,
selfishness, and a self-protective unwillingness to open up what we
have and share freely. But when coupled with power, and even more
when coupled with power and the sort of fame and popularity that
makes one feel exempted from the normal constraints that apply to
everyone else, it can lead beyond mere selfishness and into
corruption, treachery, exploitative and predatory abuse, and even
murder.

But
I would urge Daniel and all of you to hear the good news that Jesus
proclaims. God is a God of abundance. God has created a world in
which there is not just enough, but plenty. And God delights to open
the storerooms of heaven to us and rain down abundant blessings upon
us. God’s goodness is not doled out in stingy handfuls to only the
most deserving leaving the rest of us to scamper after the crumbs
that fall from the table. God loves to give in full measure, pressed
down and running over. And when you know that, deep in your being,
you will not only feel free to be similarly generous, but you will be
largely immune to any temptation to abuse your power to grab at every
beautiful thing or person that comes within your reach.

There
is more than enough — twelve basketfuls left over — but if you
are busy protecting your own and grasping for more, you may blind
yourself to the glorious truth and fail to enjoy the abundance. God
loves you. God’s is extravagantly generous. Look at the lilies of
the field. Release your grip on what you have, your five rolls and
two fish or whatever it is you have, offer it to Jesus for others,
and you will see the miracle. Abundant life. Enough for all. And more
than enough left over.